Narnia: The Dirty Bourgeois

Chapter 4 -- which my meme-goggled eyes cannot see as anything other than "I see what Caspian did there" -- is a strange chapter because on the one hand I think it is very prettily written but on the other hand it is packed to the gills with unfortunate implications. Much like the rest of Narnia, I realize, but in an interesting microcosm.
You'll recall that when we last left King Caspian, he was playing a game to pretend that he had more ships and soldiers than what he'd actually brought. This show of force was deemed necessary based on information from the fortuitously-found Lord Bern that the local governor would very likely assassinate Caspian (through legal means or illegal ones, we aren't told) if he knew who Caspian was and felt safe in doing so without immediate reprisals from cranky armed guards wielding pointed sticks. And absolutely no one thought that this might be the case before Caspian showed up totally unannounced and thought to ask Lord Bern if the governor was loyal to a Narnian king that hasn't existed for a thousand years and a Narnia kingdom that hasn't had any contact with the isles for hundreds of years. Well done, King Caspian and his councilors.

Anyway. Caspian assembles his thirty-or-so men and Bern bulks up the numbers a bit with a few of his freemen -- who presumably don't mind being put in serious danger if the governor and his guards do decide not to blink at this game of chivalric chicken -- and everyone shines up their armor to look really expensive and well-maintained and intimidating and kingly. And then the parade starts:

When they reached the jetty at Narrowhaven, Caspian found a considerable crowd assembled to meet them. “This is what I sent word about last night,” said Bern. “They are all friends of mine and honest people.” And as soon as Caspian stepped ashore the crowd broke out into hurrahs and shouts of, “Narnia! Narnia! Long live the King.” At the same moment—and this was also due to Bern’s messengers—bells began ringing from many parts of the town. Then Caspian caused his banner to be advanced and his trumpet to be blown and every man drew his sword and set his face into a joyful sternness, and they marched up the street so that the street shook, and their armor shone (for it was a sunny morning) so that one could hardly look at it steadily. At first the only people who cheered were those who had been warned by Bern’s messenger and knew what was happening and wanted it to happen. But then all the children joined in because they liked a procession and had seen very few. And then all the schoolboys joined in because they also liked processions and felt that the more noise and disturbance there was the less likely they would be to have any school that morning. And then all the old women put their heads out of doors and windows and began chattering and cheering because it was a king, and what is a governor compared with that? And all the young women joined in for the same reason and also because Caspian and Drinian and the rest were so handsome. And then all the young men came to see what the young women were looking at, so that by the time Caspian reached the castle gates, nearly the whole town was shouting; and where Gumpas sat in the castle, muddling and messing about with accounts and forms and rules and regulations, he heard the noise.

And I have mixed feelings about this.

On the one hand, this is kind of a rare moment of Lewis just showing without letting all his telling bullshit get in the way of the narrative. I can see this passage happening in my mind, and it's a very vivid event. I also like the juxtaposition of the comic schoolboys and un-serious ladies with the deathly seriousness of the occasion -- the parade-watchers don't know it, but Caspian has to be sweating bullets under all that joyful sternness. There's a good chance, after all, that he won't be alive by the end of the day.

But on the other hand, a lot of the things I like about this passage are continuations of things I don't like in the series as a whole. The comic juxtaposition loses something when it's part of the bigger pattern of coziness that suffuses these books, and when -- as always -- the dangerousness of the enterprise is buried under a thick overlay of Everything Is Going To Be Alright Because They're The Good Guys. As much as I generally don't like grimdark literature where everything that can go wrong will, I can see why it appeals to some people who've been raised on nothing but Cozy Fantasy. There's a middle ground between these that I long for, and Lewis just doesn't hit that spot.

But beyond personal preference, there's problems here in the way the crowd is presented, just as we have talked about the problems with the Silly Talking Animals. Yes, there is historical precedence and realistic examples of silly people who care more about ooh, pretty king than about his policies and the socio-political consequences of helping him to seize power. Sure, of course there are. But when an author makes the choice to fall back on that aspect of human nature as though it's a sort of default form, then there are issues that crop up.

The Lone Islands are currently-as-of-today an effectively free territory ruled by a governor who appears to be elected by some kind of Council. The details on this situation are vague, but the island government would appear to be a sort of limited or constitutional monarchy, but with the title of "governor" going to the elected-by-Council leader rather than "king". As of tomorrow, thanks to the triumphal entry of King Caspian, the Lone Islands will be a territory owned by Narnia (which is ruled by a hereditary monarch without any known constitutional limitations) and responsible for paying tributes in perpetuity to Narnia (despite the fact that the kingdom is located far across the sea and has provided the islands with no aid or succor, and is not in a position to do so any time soon owning to the fact that they have no reliable sea-transport to the islands in the first place).

I feel that I'm being asked to accept this massive change-up in government as legitimate because (a) Caspian owned the islands in the first place by virtue of some vague conquering of the islands by a Narnian king that took place so long ago that no one remembered the reason in the Pevensie's time, and (b) the populace supported the change in government by virtue of turning out to enjoy a parade. And the thing is, I don't really accept either of those things as legitimate reasons for Caspian to overturn the local government and demand that everyone on the islands start paying taxes to support the needs of the folks back on the mainland. Which is why, I suppose, we fall back on (c) the governor is slovenly and ignoble. At the castle gate Caspian’s trumpeter blew a blast and cried, “Open for the King of Narnia, come to visit his trusty and well-beloved servant the governor of the Lone Islands.” In those days everything in the islands was done in a slovenly, slouching manner. Only the little postern opened, and out came a tousled fellow with a dirty old hat on his head instead of a helmet, and a rusty old pike in his hand. He blinked at the flashing figures before him. “Carn—seez—fishansy,” he mumbled (which was his way of saying, “You can’t see His Sufficiency”). “No interviews without ‘pointments ‘cept ‘tween nine ‘n’ ten p.m. second Saturday every month.” “Uncover before Narnia, you dog,” thundered the Lord Bern, and dealt him a rap with his gauntleted hand which sent his hat flying from his head. “’Ere? Wot’s it all about?” began the doorkeeper, but no one took any notice of him. Two of Caspian’s men stepped through the postern and after some struggling with bars and bolts (for everything was rusty) flung both wings of the gate wide open

One of the things that makes it difficult to deconstruct -- and, indeed, to even read -- Narnia is that C.S. Lewis and I just aren't on the same page at all.

The doorkeeper -- who is not given a name here and which I will refer to as "Ernie" because he reminds me of the cart-driver in Terry Pratchett's The Hogfather -- appears to me to be an older man, no longer really fit for the duties of a guard, but given the relatively easy post of doorkeeper as a sort of sinecure to take care of him in his old age. This scene, to me, is like the Narnia version of the Wal-mart Greeter, albeit with Ernie being slightly more surly than the Wal-mart Greeters on account of having presumably even less health care options available and living in a world where he's literally one defaulted payment away from actual slavery. That would put most people on edge.

The rust and the dirt and the overall unkemptedness seems, to my eyes, to be less an unacceptable degradation of the glory of governance and more a factor of fiscal prudence, assuming that the money that isn't going to castle upkeep is going back to the people instead of into the governor's private pocket. (Possibly not a good assumption, but Caspian isn't a much better alternative, given that he's going to demand tributary money and castle upkeep.) Lewis, on the other hand, seems to be implying -- and will continue to imply over-and-over again with heaping descriptions of the dirty doorkeeper and the dirty castle and the dirty soldiers and the dirty governor -- that cleanliness really is next to godliness, and that an unkempt castle points to unkempt governance. All without really examining what it takes to keep castles as clean as he seems to be demanding.

I find this interesting, because I've just recently finished Barbara Tuchman's A Distant Mirror, which is a fascinating look at the 14th century and, among other things, carefully examines how the nobility's tendency to equate government spending and purchased shows of grandeur with their legitimacy as rulers wreaked utter havoc on the larger populace by plunging the entire realm into debt and economic turmoil. Even nobles returning home in defeat from war after having been ransomed from capture by the enemy had to travel in style no matter what the cost:

Ransom for the remaining prisoners was finally arranged in June 1397 after prolonged negotiations by the Duke’s ambassadors at the Sultan’s court. The sum was fixed at 200,000 ducats or gold florins, approximately equal in value to French francs. [...] Rapondi advised raising the ransom money from the merchants of the Archipelago, who should be written to amiably and promised profit on the loans and credit they could arrange.

...Repayment of debts amounting to 100,000 ducats which they had incurred for living and traveling expenses since their release, together with the cost of the journey home in appropriate splendor, required nearly again as much as the ransom. The Duke and Duchess of Burgundy did not wish their son to travel through Europe and make his appearance in France looking like a fugitive. The Duke scraped every resource, to the point of reducing the pay and pensions of Burgundian officials, to supply his son with a magnificent retinue and provide gifts for all concerned. Dino Rapondi came to Venice with an order on the Duke’s treasury for 150,000 francs and spent the winter arranging transfers of funds, of which repayment to the merchants of the Archipelago came last. Three years later the Seigneur of Mitylene was still owed the entire sum he had loaned, and a three-cornered transaction among Burgundy, Sigismund, and the Republic of Venice was not settled for twenty-seven years.

Clearly, the idea that extravagance and expenditure are associated with nobility and legitimacy are not new ones -- but it's strange to find Lewis on the same side of the issue as the royals who spent money they didn't have in order to express a regalness they didn't feel confident of while their subjects literally starved to death in the streets. Reading Dawn Treader, one can come away with the impression that if Governor Gumpas had just hired more maids, then Caspian would have had less cause for complaint.

And this isn't the first time in the Narnia series that Lewis has stressed cleanliness as a literal virtue; in The Clean and Tidy Poor, I noted the parallels between the treatment of dirt in Narnia versus the treatment of evil in Nancy Drew books by quoting Bobbie Ann Mason's The Girl Sleuth:

...the books celebrate and perpetuate some outdated values which turn into stereotypes of good and evil. The sources of good are the property owners and businessmen, the "haves" and "winners," the people who run the world. The proper division of authority is male power and female domesticity. The sources of evil are (1) people too cheap to work for a living, and (2) just plain meanness. There is an accounting for some poor people who reveal nobility of purpose -- meaning that they submit to the authorities but have been waylaid by the evil forces. The way you recognize the fallen poor is that even though they live in a run-down section of town their houses are clean and their lawns are neatly trimmed and their flowers are blooming. They wear clean, but faded, garments.

...Evil is not only sexy in Nancy's universe, it's disgustingly lower class. And the men aren't just evil, they're strange. Their names tell that: Rudy Raspin, Tom Tozzle, Tom Stripe, Mr. Warte, Bushy Trott, Grumper, Alonzo Rugby, and Red Buzby. They are all good-for-nothings who want to upset the elitist WASP order. They are tricksters and hucksters who sneer at the authorities -- the paternal benevolence of the businesses, institutions, and laws of the reigning upper classes. [...]

Thus, the original Nancy Drew series -- the first thirty-five or so volumes which accumulated throughout the 1930s, 1940s, and 1950s-portrays a fading aristocracy, threatened by the restless lower classes. [...] When minorities know their place, Nancy treats them graciously. She is generous to truck drivers and cabbies and maids. But woe betide the upstarts, the dishonest social climbers who want to grab at the top.

It's easy to recognize the slovenly "Governor Gumpas" in the list of strange-named men who are dirty and adverse to good, honest labor, as well as a lower-class man who gives himself airs. He may be elected by a Council, but he's sitting in the chair of a king -- and by the end of this chapter, Caspian will forcibly eject him from it, while millions of silent nobles cheer in the background at seeing a dirty bourgeois man put literally in his place, some short minutes after seeing a dirty lower-class doorkeeper (our poor Ernie) forcefully put in his place.

In researching C.S. Lewis' position on taxes -- something I thought might be pertinent in a post about how the Lone Islanders need to spend more money on cleaning services while also funneling funds in perpetuity to the Narnian mainland -- I happened on this post which talks about Lewis' sermon A Slip of the Tongue:

This was the last sermon Lewis ever preached.
He gave this talk at Oxford in a small chapel in Evensong on Jan.
29, 1956. The question he seems to be addressing is the
reluctance of the believer to fully commit himself to God. He
became aware of this in his prayer life. The difficulty
seems to be the real fear that God will require something more
than we wish to give at that time. The illustration he uses of
paying taxes, we all agree in the necessity of paying taxes, but
at the same time we all want to know how little we can get away
with paying. So is our thinking with our relationship with God,
we desire a relationship with Him but we don't want Him to demand
too much of us. We desire to "keep things temporal" as
Lewis puts it.

Our temptation is to look eagerly for the minimum that will be accepted. We are in fact like honest but reluctant taxpayers. We approve of an income tax in principle. We make our returns truthfully. But we dread a rise in the tax. We are very careful to pay no more than is necessary. And we hope -- we very ardently hope -- that after we have paid it there will still be enough left to live on.

What I find interesting about this sermon, and about the approach to taxes in Narnia, is this very literal rendition of the idea that we should render taxes under Caesarnot because taxes are supposed to provide for the common good from the common goods, but because Caesar apparently deserves our money in the same way that god deserves our devotion, and presumably in the same way that Caspian deserves the riches of the Lone Isles: just because. If there is a reason, says Lewis, the reason was set down thousands of years ago and no one remembers it.

But the reason most demonstrably is not because Caspian is going to use the money of the Lone Islanders to improve their lives in a way that they would not otherwise be able to do without the benefit of organized government to collect and distribute the money. At best, at most, they'll be getting a prettier castle out of the bargain. But without a Queen Elizabeth patrolling the halls to turn off the light switches because that sort of frugality doesn't mesh well with the ideal of extravagant nobility that is on display in Narnia.

And I find that a little distressing, because everything that follows in this chapter -- all the good Caspian supposedly does in violently asserting his kingship over Governor Gumpas -- is overshadowed by this strange and disturbing thread that he is doing this not because the governor is evil or because slavery is a blight on humanity, but because the castle hinges are rusty and there's a dirty middle-class man sitting in a throne that should be reserved for only the most noble of posteriors. It's hard for me to get on board with that, and it's difficult for the triumphs of this chapter to not be overshadowed by these ugly ideologies.

To show that Ernie is a Bad Person. A good person would instantly have recognised that Caspian is King, and Kings don't have to wait around for appointments. A good governor wouldn't have been bothering with that silly paperwork, he would have been getting all dressed up in his best to kneel at Caspian's feet and acknowledge him King.

Well, yes, that's why the bit about appointments is there (because, at best, Lewis and I each think the other has Blue and Orange Morality, if we aren't in direct opposition as to what's good and evil), but why do it the way he did and not the way I suggested?

Unless Lewis thinks that ordinary common people being able to see their ruler without an appointment is further proof of how evil Gumpas's rule is. Which, sadly, is entirely possible.

To show that Ernie is a Bad Person. A good person would instantly have recognised that Caspian is King, and Kings don't have to wait around for appointments. A good governor wouldn't have been bothering with that silly paperwork, he would have been getting all dressed up in his best to kneel at Caspian's feet and acknowledge him King.

Well, yes, that's why the bit about appointments is there (because, at best, Lewis and I each think the other has Blue and Orange Morality, if we aren't in direct opposition as to what's good and evil), but why do it the way he did and not the way I suggested?

Unless Lewis thinks that ordinary common people being able to see their ruler without an appointment is further proof of how evil Gumpas's rule is. Which, sadly, is entirely possible.

GeniusLemur: Anybody else think that this scene was exactly what George W. Bush expected to happen in Iraq?

There is good reason to believe that Tony Blair (whose favourite book is, apparently, Ivanhoe) totally expected something just like this from Iraq.

At length, as the Saracenic music of the challengers concluded one of those long and high flourishes with which they had broken the silence of the lists, it was answered by a solitary trumpet, which breathed a note of defiance from the northern extremity. All eyes were turned to see the new champion which these sounds announced, and no sooner were the barriers opened than he paced into the lists. As far as could be judged of a man sheathed in armour, the new adventurer did not greatly exceed the middle size, and seemed to be rather slender than strongly made. His suit of armour was formed of steel, richly inlaid with gold, and the device on his shield was a young oak-tree pulled up by the roots, with the Spanish word Desdichado, signifying Disinherited. He was mounted on a gallant black horse, and as he passed through the lists he gracefully saluted the Prince and the ladies by lowering his lance. The dexterity with which he managed his steed, and something of youthful grace which he displayed in his manner, won him the favour of the multitude...

This part of the Dawn Treader is slightly more like Walter Scott than Malory - all that massive coincidence of Bern being the one to buy Caspian and Bern's "I have plans for tomorrow WHICH I'M NOT GOING TO TELL YOU ABOUT" heavy signalling. Though I think Walter Scott would have noticed, however fleetingly, the irony of Caspian selfishly enjoying himself with Bern and Bern's wife and daughters and a nice supper and a comfortable bed, while his friends are chained in a slave ship.

GeniusLemur: Anybody else think that this scene was exactly what George W. Bush expected to happen in Iraq?

There is good reason to believe that Tony Blair (whose favourite book is, apparently, Ivanhoe) totally expected something just like this from Iraq.

At length, as the Saracenic music of the challengers concluded one of those long and high flourishes with which they had broken the silence of the lists, it was answered by a solitary trumpet, which breathed a note of defiance from the northern extremity. All eyes were turned to see the new champion which these sounds announced, and no sooner were the barriers opened than he paced into the lists. As far as could be judged of a man sheathed in armour, the new adventurer did not greatly exceed the middle size, and seemed to be rather slender than strongly made. His suit of armour was formed of steel, richly inlaid with gold, and the device on his shield was a young oak-tree pulled up by the roots, with the Spanish word Desdichado, signifying Disinherited. He was mounted on a gallant black horse, and as he passed through the lists he gracefully saluted the Prince and the ladies by lowering his lance. The dexterity with which he managed his steed, and something of youthful grace which he displayed in his manner, won him the favour of the multitude...

This part of the Dawn Treader is slightly more like Walter Scott than Malory - all that massive coincidence of Bern being the one to buy Caspian and Bern's "I have plans for tomorrow WHICH I'M NOT GOING TO TELL YOU ABOUT" heavy signalling. Though I think Walter Scott would have noticed, however fleetingly, the irony of Caspian selfishly enjoying himself with Bern and Bern's wife and daughters and a nice supper and a comfortable bed, while his friends are chained in a slave ship.

World building questions pop up when one considers the business about kids and schoolboys (How are they not in the children category? And should we take this to mean there are no schoolgirls?) having seen few processions, but liking them. What processions would they have seen in the past? Religious processions? (Of what religion?) Civic processions of some sort? (What sort?) Not military processions, not when you consider the description of Gumpas's guardsmen later. Visiting dignitaries or nobles? What?

Why do the old women automatically like kings? They've never had one. At least not one they've seen. (And...are there no old men? Why are there no old men?) Why do the young women automatically like kings? (Several less pleasant questions also occur to me.) What were the young men doing that they were the last to notice?

And none of these groups expresses even the slightest concern about a column of armed and armored men marching through their town. That suggests that this place has known peace for so long that the idea of soldiers as threat does not even occur to them. This makes the fact that Caspian dumps war on them even more horrifying.

Also, the reactions do not include "Oh, thank god, somebody's overthrowing that horrible asshat, Gumpas!" It's "Yay, a king!" because "Yay, kings!" not because "Anything's got to be better than the government we've got." Why doesn't Lewis take this chance to back up Bern?

...

Holy fuck! I just noticed that the procession isn't just of armed and armored men, they've drawn their swords. What in the hell? O_o

...

Then Caspian caused his banner to be advanced and his trumpet to be blown and every man drew his sword and set his face into a joyful sternness, and they marched up the street so that the street shook, and their armor shone (for it was a sunny morning) so that one could hardly look at it steadily.

The people Bern's messenger had hired the night before began to cheer, but their cheers were soon drowned out by the screams of the other townspeople. It was mass chaos as people stared in horror at the advancing army, grabbed their children and fled. Some raced into their homes and shops, barring the doors behind them. Others ran from the town altogether.

"No, no, it's all right!" One of Bern's hirelings shouted, trying to block an alley. "It's the king!"He was shoved aside by his neighbor, who didn't even seem to recognize him. The terrified widow pulled along her young son by one arm. He was crying. The barman who followed them was white faced.

"It's the king," he repeated more quietly as several other villagers pushed past him. Bern's money felt heavy in his purse. What had he taken payment for? Why hadn't he warned his neighbors? What had he done?

World building questions pop up when one considers the business about kids and schoolboys (How are they not in the children category? And should we take this to mean there are no schoolgirls?) having seen few processions, but liking them. What processions would they have seen in the past? Religious processions? (Of what religion?) Civic processions of some sort? (What sort?) Not military processions, not when you consider the description of Gumpas's guardsmen later. Visiting dignitaries or nobles? What?

Why do the old women automatically like kings? They've never had one. At least not one they've seen. (And...are there no old men? Why are there no old men?) Why do the young women automatically like kings? (Several less pleasant questions also occur to me.) What were the young men doing that they were the last to notice?

And none of these groups expresses even the slightest concern about a column of armed and armored men marching through their town. That suggests that this place has known peace for so long that the idea of soldiers as threat does not even occur to them. This makes the fact that Caspian dumps war on them even more horrifying.

Also, the reactions do not include "Oh, thank god, somebody's overthrowing that horrible asshat, Gumpas!" It's "Yay, a king!" because "Yay, kings!" not because "Anything's got to be better than the government we've got." Why doesn't Lewis take this chance to back up Bern?

...

Holy fuck! I just noticed that the procession isn't just of armed and armored men, they've drawn their swords. What in the hell? O_o

...

Then Caspian caused his banner to be advanced and his trumpet to be blown and every man drew his sword and set his face into a joyful sternness, and they marched up the street so that the street shook, and their armor shone (for it was a sunny morning) so that one could hardly look at it steadily.

The people Bern's messenger had hired the night before began to cheer, but their cheers were soon drowned out by the screams of the other townspeople. It was mass chaos as people stared in horror at the advancing army, grabbed their children and fled. Some raced into their homes and shops, barring the doors behind them. Others ran from the town altogether.

"No, no, it's all right!" One of Bern's hirelings shouted, trying to block an alley. "It's the king!"He was shoved aside by his neighbor, who didn't even seem to recognize him. The terrified widow pulled along her young son by one arm. He was crying. The barman who followed them was white faced.

"It's the king," he repeated more quietly as several other villagers pushed past him. Bern's money felt heavy in his purse. What had he taken payment for? Why hadn't he warned his neighbors? What had he done?

And -- talking about my conflicted feelings about this scene -- I am not 100% on how the young women are totes shallow for caring more about the handsomeness of the invaders. On the one hand, sure, it happens. Sometimes. For some people. But it's not outside the human experience. On the other hand, Unfortunate Implications. Especially in a book that has *no* named adult women.

And -- talking about my conflicted feelings about this scene -- I am not 100% on how the young women are totes shallow for caring more about the handsomeness of the invaders. On the one hand, sure, it happens. Sometimes. For some people. But it's not outside the human experience. On the other hand, Unfortunate Implications. Especially in a book that has *no* named adult women.

"And all the young women joined in for the same reason and also because Caspian and Drinian and the rest were so handsome." All I can picture with this is Justin Bieber. Plus, not quoted but see again Lewis's thinly veiled derision for school.

Also, if it weren't actually an island that Narnia already supposedly owned, they're basically conquering through awe and with great overtures of colonial condescension (and Lewis' portrayal being not unlike how the indigenous peoples of the Americas and Africa have been portrayed by colonial literature upon encountering white men). Lovely.

"and where Gumpas sat in the castle, muddling and messing about with accounts and forms and rules and regulations," You just know C.S. Lewis is thinking, "Fuck bureaucratic processes." Even though in part they exist for equality and fairness. Because, you know, kings are badass and perfectly account for everyone with "natural rights." I feel compelled to assume C.S. Lewis is also against Constitutions and the Magna Carta because they're just muddled, messy "accounts and forms and rules and regulations." I find it strange that for a religious person, he holds the rule of law in such low regard, but I suppose it's part and parcel with holding the mundane physical world in disdain.

"Only the little postern opened, and out came a tousled fellow with a dirty old hat on his head instead of a helmet, and a rusty old pike in his hand." So the government is poor, and I suppose in Lewis's head, the implication is that Gumpas is an embezzler. But it could also just be that the island is poor - islands tend to be difficult in terms of agriculture, and make up for it with fishing (look at the Japanese diet for an example) and if they've been overrun with pirates, well, they're probably having a difficult time as a whole. But magical Caspian comes in and... demands money and more work and offers little in exchange. That's going to help the struggling island economy.

C.S. Lewis - not just super classist but super colonialist. I'm not surprised, given what's coming up in the later books, but I'm disappointed I didn't see it so thoroughly entrenched before.

"What Caspian did there." More like "I see what you did there, Lewis."

On a sidenote, I'm also reminded of how Susan is currently in America, the very definition (in its most idealized form) of a government ruled by the middle class, with a strong bureaucracy, the colony that refused to pay its tribute to the King and insisted on self-governance. Hm.

(Based solely on the discussions, since I haven't read the book in a while)...

To Caspian X, King of Narnia, Lord of Cair Paravel and Emperor of the Lone Islands; from your humble servant Thomas Gumpus, de facto Governor of the Lone Islands, Honorary Chair of the Ruling Council of Felinath, Honorary Chair of the Ruling Council of Doorn:

Dear Sire;

It is with my deepest and most heartfelt regret that I address this newest communication to your attention. However, as the arbiter of Narnian law in the Lone Islands, I find myself utterly without resource and must rely on your authority in hopes that you will provide the intervention of which we now find ourselves so desperately in need.

In the absence of return correspondence, I can only hope that you are in receipt of my previous six dispatches in which I provided detailed information on the development of a trade in slavery on our islands in defiance of all precedental regulations and punitary judgements against previous offenders. This market now comprises approximately twenty-seven percent of our regional revenue, with an additional fity-four percent arising from agriculture and industries making use of slaves. Please also refer to the graph in my most recent letter demonstrating the steady increase in commerce from Calormen over the last ten years, of which nearly eighty percent is now conducted as trade in slaves.

I suspect that the governor's palace is the last remaining establishment on Felinath that in no way profits from the use of slave labor, as I do not permit departments to purchase slaves or to employ them in any capacity while conducting official business. This has, regretfully and to the detriment of my previous belief in the basic goodness of human character, resulted in an office that is now operating well below the minimum staffing levels required to accomplish basic government functions. At this time, I have two clerks, one accountant, one housekeeper, and one guardsman still on staff; the rest having left my employment to pursue more profitable, less restricted endeavors. I must admit that I find the debilitated condition of the palace a fitting metaphor for the current state of governance.

Regarding the proposal that I outlined in my second-to-last letter, to impose high taxation rates on the market and make the system prohibitively expensive, I must report that in the absence of your guidance I proceeded to make the attempt and can now count it a failure in all respects. My intention was to fund a treasury with the proceeds that could be used for the redemption of persons already enslaved, thereby putting the slave traders out of business. Unfortunately, I have not found a person willing to enforce the regulations, refusing either from fear or from greed, and now find myself in the uncomfortable position of passing laws that I alone adhere to.

It is my estimate that our islands are now home to a thousand or more persons who are being held in captivity as the property of others. I sincerely hope that your lack of communication is not intended as an endorsement of this practice, and entreat you to respond as soon as possible. The situation here is becoming more dire, I think, than we will soon be able to remedy without the intervention of an army.

I sign myself, as always, Your ObedientThomas Gumpus

He tapped the quill against the blotter and laid it down, then set the letter aside to dry. He had at this point little hope of receiving any reply, but knew he would continue to write for as long as he was able.

He realized that the shouts coming through his window had become increasingly louder while he had been concentrating; what he had at first dismissed as simple noise was now beginning to sound uncomfortably like a crowd... or a riot. He looked out on the street, only to see a parade of armed men advancing on the palace.

It was an invasion. May Aslan have mercy on him, whether he was executed or imprisoned, the only thing he could think of was that his responsibility was finally ending.

Anybody else think that this scene was exactly what George W. Bush expected to happen in Iraq?

I don't think that, I know it. He (Rumsfeld, more, but Bush said it too) actually said as much. That's a good 80-90% of what went wrong... the administration had literally no plans for the occupation, they just assumed that the Iraqi people would love us and the infrastructure would magically regenerate and it'd become a paradise in the Mideast and everyone would agree that America is the awesomeist.

But I guess that would be okay with Lewis. Well, no, it's President Napolitano, so that just won't do. But if he were king, it'd be A-Okay! :D

But obviously, if Victor Emmanuel III showed up and made the same claim, it'd be totes okay.

Actually, I think it has a lot to do with the idea of 'right of conquest', which is a very weird thing from the modern perspective. Say what you will about 'American Imperialism', but in modern times, you'll never see anyone even attempting to put forward 'Because I want it' as a justification for war, and when nations *do* go to war, it's expected that the victor will probably put in place an interim government favorable to them and whatnot, but never that they could actually annex the entire country. In modern times there are quite a few things that are seen as a causus belli - humanitarian concerns, a real or immenent threat, violation of international treaty, but war is concieved of largely in 'police action' terms - it's done in response to some offense, and solely to punish that offense, not for gain.This is very much different from the medieval conception, where wars for territorial conquest were very much expected, and 'right of conquest' was viewed as an entirely legitimate claim. Basically encoding 'might makes right' into the law. Narnia has claim to the Lone Islands solely because they conquered them (from who, I don't know...). The fact they've been functionally independent is irrelevant to the fact that Narnia can take them (though, as stated, Calormene is probably going to have problems with that... funnily enough, Calormene seemed to be trating them as effectively independent... but they're not Aslan-worshippers, and therefore, they don't count.)

I think there's quite a bit about that in A Distant Mirror, unless I'm misremembering things.

You're not misremembering -- it was a pretty big deal for the places and time periods she deals with, to the point where whether or not you could raise taxes to pay for the war *and* whether or not you could plunder the area to pay for the troops (both were an absolute necessity) hinged on whether it was just or not.

It was also very important to have a 'reasonable' claim to the territory you were trying to conquer -- without being the "rightful" heir to the French throne or the "rightful" Christian owners of the Holy Land (etc.), then (a) it was much harder to make the case for a just war, and (b) it was almost impossible to get local landowners to support you, which was crucial because a foothold into the territory you were invading had massive practical implications (including whether the local people would see you as invaders or not -- and, yes, there was early stirrings of nationalism even if it didn't really have a name or strong cohesion yet).

As you say, though, generalizations are tricky. But, yes, it was More Complicated than just "I Want".

This is very much different from the medieval conception, where wars for territorial conquest were very much expected, and 'right of conquest' was viewed as an entirely legitimate claim. Basically encoding 'might makes right' into the law.

It's hard to generalize about such a broad and long period as the Middle Ages, but for much of that time in many places people - including rulers - were indeed much concerned with having, or at least plausibly claiming, justification for going to war. The jus ad bellum theories of Augustine and Thomas Aquinas apparently made it into canon law, as well. This meant that there was usually much diplomatic posturing about how the other guy wronged you first and therefore you were forced to go to war. I think there's quite a bit about that in A Distant Mirror, unless I'm misremembering things.

Still, I'll grant that once accomplished, conquests were usually accepted as fact, particularly since nationalism hadn't really been invented yet.

They watched him, adoration in their eyes, as he walked past; tossed his head, the luxurious horse-locks flowing from his helmet-crest swirling around his head and sparkling in the light; every inch of him a King; and many of those inches, symbolized in true heraldic fashion, in the great and Aslan-headed codpiece that boldly swayed and waggled before him as he went.

"A right King, that one," said one old woman, elbowing another. "And what's a governor compared to that!"

Caspian cranked the wheel at his armor's side; the lion gaped wide its jaws! And roared!

In some ways if Caspian were being honest about randomly deciding to conquer the islands (even using "You tried to sell me as a slave!" as an excuse) it would seem less odd than this "hey, you totally belong to us, even though we forgot you existed for at least three hundred years and haven't had contact in much longer" approach. Which no one questions. Not even Gumpas.

It appears that, according to Lewis, if you are royalty and your country has ever had control of a spot of land it is and always will be yours. Which suddenly makes me wonder what he thought of the US... (As well as wondering why this doesn't make Narnia rightfully Telmarine. Oh, wait, because Aslan.)

Per the timeline, the Lone Islands made a king of Narnia their emperor because he saved them from a dragon. Which also rather grates to my modern notions.

This was and is actually my favorite chapter in the entire Narnia series. I was so disappointed that they changed it into a cheap action scene in the movie.

When I read the book some time ago, I interpreted 2 things differently, which make what Caspian does seem a little better:

1. I thought the Governor was definitely not elected. I though of it as a position akin to the governors in the British Empire, appointed by the crown. In this case appointed long ago. (If Narnia really had no contact for a thousand years, than the governor would choose his successor.)

2. I thought that the condition of the weapons, armor and the castle is not because they governor doesn't invest money, but because the soldiers are undisciplined and don't clean their weapons and armor (and don't keep the castle in good condition).

For Caspians goals, he doesn't seem like he does care that much for the castle or the slave trade. He wants to get his friends and continue the voyage.

This was and is actually my favorite chapter in the entire Narnia series. I was so disappointed that they changed it into a cheap action scene in the movie.

When I read the book some time ago, I interpreted 2 things differently, which make what Caspian does seem a little better:

1. I thought the Governor was definitely not elected. I though of it as a position akin to the governors in the British Empire, appointed by the crown. In this case appointed long ago. (If Narnia really had no contact for a thousand years, than the governor would choose his successor.)

2. I thought that the condition of the weapons, armor and the castle is not because they governor doesn't invest money, but because the soldiers are undisciplined and don't clean their weapons and armor (and don't keep the castle in good condition).

For Caspians goals, he doesn't seem like he does care that much for the castle or the slave trade. He wants to get his friends and continue the voyage.

I was just struck by the juxtaposition. "Gumpas sat in the castle, muddling and messing about with accounts and forms and rules and regulations, he heard the noise."What is Gumpas doing? He's working. He's doing his job. What is Caspian doing? He's parading during a pause in his frivolous voyage to the ends of the planet. He couldn't be doing his job if he wanted to. And really, what's the chance he wants to?

But Caspian is handsome and wearing shiny armor and bearing Aslan's blessing, so he's wonderful and Gumpas is terrible.

This discussion reminds me of that sequence in The Magician's Nephew where Jadis commandeers a hansom cab with intent to conquer Earth. Good times.

I'm politely confused about the disdain for charts and forms and appointments and due process, which seems all one with the disdain for schools and non-fiction books. Feels odd when there are several characters who are learned men, if not actual teachers, and we're meant to like and respect them, like Professor Kirke and Dr. Cornelius and heck, even High King Peter's off doing exam prep right now...

Also, Lewis privileges royal right over law. And really distant royal right at that. I mean, how long has it been again? *checks* Damned if I know. In the bit we'll get to next time, Caspian claims that it's been "about a hundred and fifty years" since the Lone Islands paid their taxes... wait... tribute. Tribute? Wait, what? That's what conquered people give their conquerors, not what part of a kingdom pays to the king, not usually. O_o What the hell is up with the Lone Islands? They were conquered before the Pevensies came to Narnia (which they did 1306 years before VotDT) and don't seem to have been known to be part of Telmarine Narnia (conquest 308 years b. VotDT)... so a) why the hell is tribute owed to Caspian's Narnia in the first place (especially after 308 years, at least, of no contact) and b) why in hell would the Lone Islands not have become properly part of Narnia somewhere in there, changing what was on the books to "taxes" not "tribute."

Granted, I'm pretty sure Caspian is just making shit up because I have trouble believing that Telmarine Narnia would've ignored the islands if they knew they existed. But still, the language is troubling and I'm still not sure why Narnia has any claim to the islands when - per the timeline - they ignored them for, it appears, the entire time they were Narnian up until Prince Caspian popping in to screw them over (and, unless Bern really is just restarting the slave trade, to almost certainly hand them over to Calormene. Smooth, kingy-baby, real smooth.)

Where was I going with that? Oh, yes. No consideration is given to the Lone Islands having been, essentially, self ruling for somewhere between 308 years and, if the timeline is canon, from the moment they became Narnian which was... *checks* ... 2004 years before VotDT. WHAT!? This isn't King Arthur coming back, this is *googles* Giorgio Napolitano showing up at 10 Downing Street and asking for the British Isles back because they were conquered by Rome in 43 AD!

But I guess that would be okay with Lewis. Well, no, it's President Napolitano, so that just won't do. But if he were king, it'd be A-Okay! :D

“Hurrah! Hurrah!” said Corin. “I shan’t have to be King. I shan’t have to be King. I’ll be a prince. It’s princes have all the fun.”

“And that’s truer than thy brother knows, Cor,” said King Lune. “For this is what it means to be a king: To be first in every desperate attack and last in every desperate retreat, and when there’s hunger in the land (as must be now and then in bad years)to wear finer clothes and laugh louder over a scantier meal than any man in your land.”

The point in bringing this up is not to derail things into a discussion of Babylon 5 (if anyone wants to have that discussion, I'd love to in an open thread) but rather to point out that returning long lost monarch's reception depends on a lot of things.

In that story he was getting into some serious trouble because he refused to give up his sword (which is very much a weapon) at customs and was more than a bit perturbed that the guards weren't giving him proper respect but onto the scene walked a British romantic with a degree of authority and knowledge that at least one historical figure from centuries past had in fact showed up alive and well on the space station in question. Which saved Arthur a lot of trouble.

Then later on he was helping a poor person, far below the level that security had the resources or inclination to be concerned with, recover lost possessions and ended up doing it in front of someone who saw taking on hard odds for that kind of thing honorable and worth helping out with. Or something like that.

The point is, how long lost ruler returns and who is there matters a lot. B5 Arthur wouldn't have made it through security without Marcus Cole showing up and even then Marcus was the only one who accepted that he might be Arthur. (G'Kar and he hit it off before G'Kar even heard his story.)

If Arthur showed up at 10 Downing Street (in the time of the story, the time Lewis was writing the story, or today) I think a good deal would depend on how he acted and who he met. If he showed up there with an army, I don't think he'd live to see day's end save intervention from Vorlons or Timelords.

Regardless I don't think Arthur showing up would make politics any less screwed up and that's assuming at least some people are convinced he's Arthur. (One thing worthy of note, while it might be useful to have historical figure call bullshit on things, it's probable that historical figure would also call bullshit on good things. Going out on a limb here, I know, but I'm guessing Arthur isn't a feminist.)

Though, on the other hand, I've had patrons/customers who were pretty high on the entitled asshat spectrum. Perhaps they'd just be professionally polite while fantasizing about feeding him to a nice tank of piranha. (Granted, you start beating up the Wal*mart greeter and your next stop is going to be the back of a police car.)

you start beating up the Wal*mart greeter and your next stop is going to be the back of a police car - depizan So, for all the things you could say about WalMart, it's more just and civilized than Narnia?

I sometimes find it really hard not to wonder about Lewis's writing comprehension - the "evil" governor not only apparently sees people with appointments, but has a standard time he sees people without them. And has it every month. This is hardly typical evil overlord or even evil bureaucrat behavior. Which raises the question of why it was thrown in.

To show that Ernie is a Bad Person. A good person would instantly have recognised that Caspian is King, and Kings don't have to wait around for appointments. A good governor wouldn't have been bothering with that silly paperwork, he would have been getting all dressed up in his best to kneel at Caspian's feet and acknowledge him King.

Seriously, it's the only reason I can think of.

Aashyma Never Would: So, I'm just going to assume that the castle is slovenly because the governor, while recognising that his islands economy makes slavery a necessary evil, he himself is refusing to take part in it.

The more I think about it, the more off this entire venture seems. We get no confirmation from anyone at any point as to what the situation in the islands is. Caspian takes Lord Bern's word as gospel and acts on it. Some of this is Lewis's relentless coziness, but it may also be a statement about not questioning noblemen.

If one reads through the episode with any kind of thought, one notices a lot of disturbing things. Bern doesn't say anything about being against the slave trade until after Caspian has convinced him of who he is. His interactions with Pug could all be wealthy snobby client to slave trader (it's interesting, for example, that Pug accepted half his asking price for Caspian...why did he do that, exactly, if Bern isn't either a regular client whose business he doesn't want to lose or at least someone with a great deal of power on the islands) I mean, seriously, the first thing he says to Pug is "Well, Pug. More of your usual wares?" And the second thing he does is ask how much Caspian is. Pug's "I knew your Lordship would pick on the best" and "Still, to a customer like your Lordship" seem to back up the idea that they've done business before. As does that whole bit about the money not being in Pug's possession yet - in fact, Pug hands Caspian over on Bern's word. Would he do that if Bern was the island's anti-slavery advocate? I bet he would for a noble frequent customer, though.

I feel confident in deciding that Bern lied to Caspian about his opinion of slavery. So...what, if anything, of what Bern tells Caspian is true? (The narration tells us that Bern's people were free, but where did the Narrator learn this?) Is Gumpas a bad man, or does Bern just want to rule the island(s*)? The bit with Bern later saying there will be war now that the slave trade is ended makes me think that what Gumpas says in the next bit about the island needing it is likely true. (And oh boy, the bit with Gumpas in the next bit. I can't wait for your post on that!)

Also, the fact that Bern mistreats Ernie/Bert does not say good things to me about about his character. (I know it does to Lewis. Which doesn't say good things to me about Lewis's character.) Nor does the fact that he threatens more violence on people later.

In every other bit of fiction involving people changing a fictional place's government, we're given examples of the government behaving badly. We get none of that here. Hell, even in LWW and PC, there's more evidence that the rulers who get deposed are not nice. (And I think the evidence in those books, at least when weighed against how the supposed "good" people act - especially Aslan - isn't all that powerful.) Why is there no evidence!?

Maybe Caspian being snowed is canon. *boggles*

*I should probably reread more than just this chapter, but I'm having a hell of a time keeping straight exactly what Gumpas controls - this island? All of the Lone Islands - which is what Bern is given? But isn't the slave trade preying on the other islands? What is going on here???

If we go with your interpretation of the gatekeeper -- I'll call him Bert -- then I suggest we add a layer of "grr, the youth these days, don't care about things the way I did in my day, moral lassitude, get off my lawn, etc." of awful to the characterization.

The depressing part is that this doesn't sound totally unlike Lewis-the-narrator at all. This is the guy who's anxious for Kind Arthur to return to England because... I don't really know, but now I'm envisioning King Arthur striding into a department store and acting like Caspian here...ghaaaaaaaah.

If we go with your interpretation of the gatekeeper -- I'll call him Bert -- then I suggest we add a layer of "grr, the youth these days, don't care about things the way I did in my day, moral lassitude, get off my lawn, etc." of awful to the characterization.

Re: Lewis' apparent disdain for bureaucracy and the bourgeois. I definitely think it's related to the Romantic near-worship of the Old Days. I remember getting completely thrown out of one of L. M. Montgomery's books when a character complained about how no-one could make a heroic story out of elections, and her characters tended to be Romantic sorts. (I was definitely not - I adored reading about the presidents and electoral fights, and had little patience for King Arthur.)

First thought: Are we sure the "sent Caspian off to get him out of the way/dispose of him" theory isn't actually canon? It really appears that our only other viable alternatives are Caspian and his advisers have all the wisdom of pocket lint or "because Aslan." I realize the canon reason is "because Aslan," but it's a very unsatisfactory explanation. At that point, you're explaining in story actions with "because I wrote it that way*" which is somewhere between a cop out and a reason for your audience to break out the rotting produce - you're kind of breaking one of the basic parts of the contract between storyteller and audience (or at least what I consider it to be) because if characters actions aren't based on any in story reason, I'm not sure you even have characters anymore. Or a story. I'm not sure what you have.

I am somewhat creeped out by the universal adoration of Caspian and the parade. (Also reminded that Lewis and I have completely different views on, well, everything. "it was a king, and what is a governor compared with that?" Yep, one absolute ruler, the best form of government ever that never goes wrong for anyone. Ever.) Why wouldn't people be puzzled? Or scared? There hasn't been a king of the islands in generations. And, unless I've forgotten something, slavery is the only bad thing mentioned about life on the island. (Maybe pirates, but they seem implied to be supplying the economy, not threatening it.) Hell, maybe Ernie's still the gate guard because it's an important job to him (he's had it all his life!) and there are no real threats to the governor because things are going well, so why not let ol' Ernie keep the post for the rest of his life?

(I sometimes find it really hard not to wonder about Lewis's writing comprehension - the "evil" governor not only apparently sees people with appointments, but has a standard time he sees people without them. And has it every month. This is hardly typical evil overlord or even evil bureaucrat behavior. Which raises the question of why it was thrown in. Why not the typical "No one sees His Sufficiency without an appointment, you can apply for an appointment at the appointments office by filling out a form 548c in quintuplicate and it will be reviewed on the next half-day after the new moon. Right now the waiting list is seven years long. Have a nice day." When you consider that Gumpas is more accessible to his people than Caspian is to his, it gets really bizarre.)

*Which is true, but if you're not going to bother to have any kind of consistency or reason, Aslan might as well have shown up in a fighter jet and strafed the witch's castle back in LWW. Though, sadly, that may still make more sense than what did happen.

a considerable crowd assembled to meet them... “They are all friends of mine and honest people.”

Not considerable enough a crowd to do anything about the slave trade, of course.

CN: discussion of violence

“Uncover before Narnia, you dog,” thundered the Lord Bern, and dealt him a rap with his gauntleted hand which sent his hat flying from his head.

For fuck's sake.

This guy's been hit in the face with a load of metal. He's probably bleeding, possibly his nose is broken or a few teeth are knocked out. And for what? For not taking his hat off the moment he sees an unfamiliar banner that no one in the Lone Islands has seen for a thousand years.

Puts a new spin on his promise to treat slave!Caspian well, doesn't it?

Also, nice to see how it's all arranged for Caspian to go straight to the Important People rather than immediately rescuing his friends and sworn swordsmouse. Some chivalrous king!

a considerable crowd assembled to meet them... “They are all friends of mine and honest people.”

Not considerable enough a crowd to do anything about the slave trade, of course.

CN: discussion of violence

“Uncover before Narnia, you dog,” thundered the Lord Bern, and dealt him a rap with his gauntleted hand which sent his hat flying from his head.

For fuck's sake.

This guy's been hit in the face with a load of metal. He's probably bleeding, possibly his nose is broken or a few teeth are knocked out. And for what? For not taking his hat off the moment he sees an unfamiliar banner that no one in the Lone Islands has seen for a thousand years.

Puts a new spin on his promise to treat slave!Caspian well, doesn't it?

Also, nice to see how it's all arranged for Caspian to go straight to the Important People rather than immediately rescuing his friends and sworn swordsmouse. Some chivalrous king!

For Caspians goals, he doesn't seem like he does care that much for the castle or the slave trade. He wants to get his friends and continue the voyage.

Which he accomplishes by randomly changing the leadership of the island(s?) and abolishing slavery... which we're told will lead to war. A war he leaves to the island(s) to solve on their own because his journey is more important.

This confuses me: these lands have a flourishing slave trade, no? So to maintain upkeep of the castle would not require any extra hiring of maids or cleaning staff, right, just a one-time paymemt for purchasing a few more slaves.

So, I'm just going to assume that the castle is slovenly because the governor, while recognising that his islands economy makes slavery a necessary evil, he himself is refusing to take part in it.

This confuses me: these lands have a flourishing slave trade, no? So to maintain upkeep of the castle would not require any extra hiring of maids or cleaning staff, right, just a one-time paymemt for purchasing a few more slaves.

So, I'm just going to assume that the castle is slovenly because the governor, while recognising that his islands economy makes slavery a necessary evil, he himself is refusing to take part in it.

I did figure out (and appended to the end of the last comments-thread on Narnia) why the Lone Islanders have become a slave-trading nation: it satisfied me, at least.

(It is never specified how Gumpas became Governor, I don't think: I thought it might have been by election, though I presumed voting rights were granted only to merchants in good standing, ie rich property-owners. But it is just as possible that Governor by this time had become a hereditary title.)

So if I squint very hard and hope that Drinian has let Bern know that he needs to send a fast ship to Narnia with a very detailed account of the situation on the Islands, addressed to Regent Trumpkin, then I can sort of think well, at least no more children getting sold to the Calormenes.

But given all Lewis ever says about Bern, it's also possible that whatever Caspian says, Bern is just waiting til the Dawn Treader is over the horizon before he summons the Calormene merchants and the Island traders and explains that the boy-king just doesn't understand the niceties of economics and the slave market will be re-opening shortly.

I did figure out (and appended to the end of the last comments-thread on Narnia) why the Lone Islanders have become a slave-trading nation: it satisfied me, at least.

(It is never specified how Gumpas became Governor, I don't think: I thought it might have been by election, though I presumed voting rights were granted only to merchants in good standing, ie rich property-owners. But it is just as possible that Governor by this time had become a hereditary title.)

So if I squint very hard and hope that Drinian has let Bern know that he needs to send a fast ship to Narnia with a very detailed account of the situation on the Islands, addressed to Regent Trumpkin, then I can sort of think well, at least no more children getting sold to the Calormenes.

But given all Lewis ever says about Bern, it's also possible that whatever Caspian says, Bern is just waiting til the Dawn Treader is over the horizon before he summons the Calormene merchants and the Island traders and explains that the boy-king just doesn't understand the niceties of economics and the slave market will be re-opening shortly.

So, I'm just going to assume that the castle is slovenly because the governor, while recognising that his islands economy makes slavery a necessary evil, he himself is refusing to take part in it.

Oh ho, what an interesting idea.

*checks VotDT out of the library, rereads section*

Hmm... you know, I think we've got a very, very good case here for Bern being a cunning man who uses Caspian to claim power over the islands for himself. Even if he's not, Caspian completely screws over the islands - in canon, no less! - and then wanders off, having deposed one leader for no particularly good reason and put another (who is either going to be faced with war or will have to restart the slave trade as soon as Caspian's sails vanish over the horizon) in charge.

"The king is under the law, for it's the law that makes him king."-- King Lune of Archenland, to Prince Cor. Unfortunately, what this law is is never explained to us - it's entirely possible that it's simply a broad list of Aslan's precepts, but I like thinking it's a detailed constitution.

"The king is under the law, for it's the law that makes him king."-- King Lune of Archenland, to Prince Cor. Unfortunately, what this law is is never explained to us - it's entirely possible that it's simply a broad list of Aslan's precepts, but I like thinking it's a detailed constitution.

On the one hand, to my secular brain, it reads as a parody of "His Excellency" and "His Eminence" and "His Majesty" and all the other noble titles, and that sort of anti-feudalist humour would probably deserve an invasion on its own.

On the other hand - and I wasn't aware of this before so I can't really comment on any theological metaphors Lewis may be going for - all the references to that phrase I can find on the internet have it as a KJV-language property of God as one who is sufficient to meet all needs, so perhaps it can be viewed as an even more pompous and pretentious title for a mere mortal to take than the traditional feudal ones?

So does the whole change of government continue like this? Awfully easy to overthrow a tyrant when the entire population is instantly on your side and the tyrant himself doesn't have any troops, isn't it?

There's a view of the British Crown that it's God's representative on Earth (essentially a "divine right of king's view"). Maybe Lewis was thinking along these lines? And, in Britain, the Crown is essentially an independent corporation. So, I'm speculating that Lewis thinks that the Narian Crown is an independent corporation that functions as Aslan's representative, and so it can't go away even if the country is in chaos. Because Jasper. Wait, I mean, because Aslan.

Of course, as you point out, this is pretty much nonsense in the real world.

I'm thinking Lewis viewed the Lone Islands as the equivalent of either a Crown Dependency or what was then called a Crown Colony (now called British Overseas Territory). In that view, the "ownership" of the Lone Islands belong to the Narnian Crown, regardless of which royal family is ruling Narnia.

This video on Youtube explains the difference between the monarch and the Crown, and it's all very confusing. CN: Potentially ethinically/racially offensive language.

I'm thinking Lewis viewed the Lone Islands as the equivalent of either a Crown Dependency or what was then called a Crown Colony (now called British Overseas Territory). In that view, the "ownership" of the Lone Islands belong to the Narnian Crown, regardless of which royal family is ruling Narnia.

This video on Youtube explains the difference between the monarch and the Crown, and it's all very confusing. CN: Potentially ethinically/racially offensive language.

When you consider the disappearing/reappearing humanity of Narnia (We've got at least two periods in which there are no humans or we don't know what became of the humans. At least one of those was quite long. Also, if only humans can be rulers of Narnia, there was no ruler of Narnia when the Telmarines invaded and committed genocide. And they didn't conquer the castle the Pevensies lived in... How does anyone even know about the Lone Islands besides the Seven Lords and the Pevensies? Oh, ow, this is the worst world building.)... How does Lewis think this works? Crowns...countries... don't generally persist with no leadership/government for centuries. Nevermind maintaining their dependencies.

Just curious: is the "new champion" there actually disinherited? I'm wondering how he can afford all that cool stuff and instantly get the adulation of the crowd if a) he's been disinherited and b) he advertises that fact.

Just curious: is the "new champion" there actually disinherited? I'm wondering how he can afford all that cool stuff and instantly get the adulation of the crowd if a) he's been disinherited and b) he advertises that fact.

Just curious: is the "new champion" there actually disinherited? I'm wondering how he can afford all that cool stuff and instantly get the adulation of the crowd if a) he's been disinherited and b) he advertises that fact.

The champion in question is indeed disinherited and IIRC penniless, but he has just been provided with horse and armour by Isaac of York, the Jewish banker, whose life he saved earlier on. The book is IIRC pretty grounded in dealing with the economical aims and dealings of the characters, which drive a fair bit of the plot.

Just curious: is the "new champion" there actually disinherited? I'm wondering how he can afford all that cool stuff and instantly get the adulation of the crowd if a) he's been disinherited and b) he advertises that fact.

The champion in question is indeed disinherited and IIRC penniless, but he has just been provided with horse and armour by Isaac of York, the Jewish banker, whose life he saved earlier on. The book is IIRC pretty grounded in dealing with the economical aims and dealings of the characters, which drive a fair bit of the plot.

Depizan: I don't understand the politics of this. I can believe that a group considers themselves a coherent whole despite having been conquered twice, but I'm not sure how the Lone Islands remain part of the Empire of Narnia when the Empire of Narnia has twice been conquered.

Poland disappears off the Map of Europe completely for about fifty years, and then came back because there was still a Polish identity. Come to that, Palestinians have by now been conquered multiple times yet still regard themselves as Palestinian.

Depizan: I don't understand the politics of this. I can believe that a group considers themselves a coherent whole despite having been conquered twice, but I'm not sure how the Lone Islands remain part of the Empire of Narnia when the Empire of Narnia has twice been conquered.

Poland disappears off the Map of Europe completely for about fifty years, and then came back because there was still a Polish identity. Come to that, Palestinians have by now been conquered multiple times yet still regard themselves as Palestinian.

No, I totally get how people can consider themselves to have an identity after being conquered. What I don't get is how said people can also claim ownership of a place somewhere else that their king is totally still the emperor of. To the best of my knowledge, neither Poland nor the Palestinians claim some random island group based on some rulership from the Middle Ages. (Claiming you have the right to live on the land you're living on is perfectly understandable. And, as far as I can tell, the Lone Islanders correspond to Palestinians or Polish in this scenario. The Narnians do not.)

No, I totally get how people can consider themselves to have an identity after being conquered. What I don't get is how said people can also claim ownership of a place somewhere else that their king is totally still the emperor of. To the best of my knowledge, neither Poland nor the Palestinians claim some random island group based on some rulership from the Middle Ages. (Claiming you have the right to live on the land you're living on is perfectly understandable. And, as far as I can tell, the Lone Islanders correspond to Palestinians or Polish in this scenario. The Narnians do not.)

I'm not sure you can cozify without privilege, at least some types of privilege. I'm an adventure writer, and I realize that the genre is probably problematic for those who do live with threat of violence. (Because the adventure genre pretty much treats violence cozily. People banter in gunfights and recover instantly from being hurt and so on and so forth.) I don't really want to say that violence is the answer or without problems, so I try to walk a line between maintaining the fun of adventure fiction while still keeping in mind that getting hurt hurts and that good people would rather not resort to violence (and that there are things that good people don't do). Which still puts my privilege as someone who grew up in a safe world without violence on display, but, I hope, doesn't completely shit on everyone else.

Lewis doesn't seem real concerned about the shitting on people factor. And most of the Unfortunate Implications we keep noting are more on the order of Giant Whopping Values Dissonance Like WOAH. He's not just cozifying because he's writing for kids, he's pasting cozy on the values from hell so that we buy them. (Or, worse, he thinks that if everyone just had the right values, the world really would work like this.)

To take Princesses, for example (of how one might cozify without being an ass) I think it would be possible to write a story that acknowledged some of the realities of being a princess while still being enjoyable and escapist. (Though one might end up with a story ending with a political marriage that both parties recognize is good for their respective countries, even if they don't love each other, so they agree pleasantly to each have their lovers on the side because they're reasonable sorts that way.)

I'm not sure you can cozify without privilege, at least some types of privilege. I'm an adventure writer, and I realize that the genre is probably problematic for those who do live with threat of violence. (Because the adventure genre pretty much treats violence cozily. People banter in gunfights and recover instantly from being hurt and so on and so forth.) I don't really want to say that violence is the answer or without problems, so I try to walk a line between maintaining the fun of adventure fiction while still keeping in mind that getting hurt hurts and that good people would rather not resort to violence (and that there are things that good people don't do). Which still puts my privilege as someone who grew up in a safe world without violence on display, but, I hope, doesn't completely shit on everyone else.

Lewis doesn't seem real concerned about the shitting on people factor. And most of the Unfortunate Implications we keep noting are more on the order of Giant Whopping Values Dissonance Like WOAH. He's not just cozifying because he's writing for kids, he's pasting cozy on the values from hell so that we buy them. (Or, worse, he thinks that if everyone just had the right values, the world really would work like this.)

To take Princesses, for example (of how one might cozify without being an ass) I think it would be possible to write a story that acknowledged some of the realities of being a princess while still being enjoyable and escapist. (Though one might end up with a story ending with a political marriage that both parties recognize is good for their respective countries, even if they don't love each other, so they agree pleasantly to each have their lovers on the side because they're reasonable sorts that way.)

To be fair, I think that's why Bern got his friends in the town to cheer and act like they expected this to be a peaceful parade - so that people not-in-the-know would see other townsfolk assuming this was peaceful and would not panic - or attack - at the sight of armed soldiers.

It's a long-standing tradition in the coronation of the English monarch that the Sword of State is carried before the monarch (and I know there are several other swords used, including a separate Sword of State of Scotland, but I wasn't born at the time of the last coronation) - swords carried with a naked blade that must, at one time, have been an actual sharp sword.

I think that's what C.S. Lewis was thinking of - since this is symbolically sort of Caspian's coronation as Emperor of the Lone Islands.

Not that the people of the town, lacking a Direct Line To The Author, would have known that. But they could see other people doing happy cheery "ooh, it's a parade" reactions, not going "AAAGH AARGH ARMED MEN RUN RUN", so...

To be fair, I think that's why Bern got his friends in the town to cheer and act like they expected this to be a peaceful parade - so that people not-in-the-know would see other townsfolk assuming this was peaceful and would not panic - or attack - at the sight of armed soldiers.

It's a long-standing tradition in the coronation of the English monarch that the Sword of State is carried before the monarch (and I know there are several other swords used, including a separate Sword of State of Scotland, but I wasn't born at the time of the last coronation) - swords carried with a naked blade that must, at one time, have been an actual sharp sword.

I think that's what C.S. Lewis was thinking of - since this is symbolically sort of Caspian's coronation as Emperor of the Lone Islands.

Not that the people of the town, lacking a Direct Line To The Author, would have known that. But they could see other people doing happy cheery "ooh, it's a parade" reactions, not going "AAAGH AARGH ARMED MEN RUN RUN", so...

I know I've seen similar scenes pulled off elsewhere. (I can't, at present, think exactly where, but I know I have.) I just don't think, even with Bern's best efforts, this one is very plausible. I think the length of time since the Lone Islands have really been Narnian (regardless of what Caspian later says, I think it has to have been since before the Telmarine conquest of Narnia.* I just do not buy that Telmarine Narnia would've let the Lone Islands just...slip away. That doesn't fit at all well with genocidal conquerors who've generally continued to be rather martial.), the lack of shown dissatisfaction with Gumpas, and the fact that what might be fine in a coronation of a monarch in an existing country reads really different in a place that hasn't really had a monarch for 300+ years (if ever) are against it.

Lewis ties himself in knots here because - I think - he had a bunch of parts he needed/wanted for this to work out, but none of those parts worked together. (In other words, he fell into the same trap Lucas did with the prequel trilogy.) Worse, he can't allow good people to ever be questioned or doubted without treating it as a sin. Since that sin didn't fit here, no one could have doubts about Caspian's right to the islands, except for Gumpas (and even he doesn't very directly).

Of course, this means that Caspian never proves he should be Emperor of the Lone Islands and Bern never proves he should be Duke of the Lone Islands. (Though his taste for violence rather proves he shouldn't be, in my book. Even if he is clever. Headcanon has by now completely recast him as the villain. I kind of like him as a villain. *ponders whether the series of events could be stolen subtly, then wonders if anyone already has*) I really don't like how leadership works in Narnia. The Pevensies became monarchs because prophesy and because Aslan. Caspian became king mostly because Aslan. Caspian reclaims the Islands because they're Narnian for reasons no one remembers. Yuch.

*Another quibble occurs to me here. The Narnian King was Emperor of the Lone Islands before Jadis's reign... how did Jadis get control of Narnia again? (and where did the humans of Narnia go!?) Then the Pevensies pop up and become Kings and Queens of Narnia (and apparently Emperors of the Lone Islands). Indeterminate stuff happens. Telmarines invade Narnia, destroying it's government. I don't understand the politics of this. I can believe that a group considers themselves a coherent whole despite having been conquered twice, but I'm not sure how the Lone Islands remain part of the Empire of Narnia when the Empire of Narnia has twice been conquered. Is there a historical precedence for this oddness? Or is Lewis hoping no one will wonder? Wait, no, Lewis considers them rightfully Narnian, so nothing else matters. Because Aslan.

I know I've seen similar scenes pulled off elsewhere. (I can't, at present, think exactly where, but I know I have.) I just don't think, even with Bern's best efforts, this one is very plausible. I think the length of time since the Lone Islands have really been Narnian (regardless of what Caspian later says, I think it has to have been since before the Telmarine conquest of Narnia.* I just do not buy that Telmarine Narnia would've let the Lone Islands just...slip away. That doesn't fit at all well with genocidal conquerors who've generally continued to be rather martial.), the lack of shown dissatisfaction with Gumpas, and the fact that what might be fine in a coronation of a monarch in an existing country reads really different in a place that hasn't really had a monarch for 300+ years (if ever) are against it.

Lewis ties himself in knots here because - I think - he had a bunch of parts he needed/wanted for this to work out, but none of those parts worked together. (In other words, he fell into the same trap Lucas did with the prequel trilogy.) Worse, he can't allow good people to ever be questioned or doubted without treating it as a sin. Since that sin didn't fit here, no one could have doubts about Caspian's right to the islands, except for Gumpas (and even he doesn't very directly).

Of course, this means that Caspian never proves he should be Emperor of the Lone Islands and Bern never proves he should be Duke of the Lone Islands. (Though his taste for violence rather proves he shouldn't be, in my book. Even if he is clever. Headcanon has by now completely recast him as the villain. I kind of like him as a villain. *ponders whether the series of events could be stolen subtly, then wonders if anyone already has*) I really don't like how leadership works in Narnia. The Pevensies became monarchs because prophesy and because Aslan. Caspian became king mostly because Aslan. Caspian reclaims the Islands because they're Narnian for reasons no one remembers. Yuch.

*Another quibble occurs to me here. The Narnian King was Emperor of the Lone Islands before Jadis's reign... how did Jadis get control of Narnia again? (and where did the humans of Narnia go!?) Then the Pevensies pop up and become Kings and Queens of Narnia (and apparently Emperors of the Lone Islands). Indeterminate stuff happens. Telmarines invade Narnia, destroying it's government. I don't understand the politics of this. I can believe that a group considers themselves a coherent whole despite having been conquered twice, but I'm not sure how the Lone Islands remain part of the Empire of Narnia when the Empire of Narnia has twice been conquered. Is there a historical precedence for this oddness? Or is Lewis hoping no one will wonder? Wait, no, Lewis considers them rightfully Narnian, so nothing else matters. Because Aslan.

I didn't notice until I copied just that one sentence. (I'd been going to write a less stereotyped and more cautious version of what Lewis gives us, but then I saw the bit about drawn swords and my brain went LOLWHUT???)

The crowd's positive, un-frightened reaction pretty much causes the reader to mentally throw out what Lewis wrote. It simply isn't possible.

The illustration from the book - at least the version I downloaded - does show them with their swords out, but it also shows Lucy, Edmund, and Eustace walking with Caspian, so it's not like it helped make the words of the passage any more obvious. It does, I think, depict what Lewis had in mind - a triumphal parade, not an act of war or invasion. Except... it's an act of war or invasion. Lewis defangs and cozies it up by having the invaded populous want to be invaded, and for no reason than "kings are cool, dude!" No. Just, no.

I didn't notice until I copied just that one sentence. (I'd been going to write a less stereotyped and more cautious version of what Lewis gives us, but then I saw the bit about drawn swords and my brain went LOLWHUT???)

The crowd's positive, un-frightened reaction pretty much causes the reader to mentally throw out what Lewis wrote. It simply isn't possible.

The illustration from the book - at least the version I downloaded - does show them with their swords out, but it also shows Lucy, Edmund, and Eustace walking with Caspian, so it's not like it helped make the words of the passage any more obvious. It does, I think, depict what Lewis had in mind - a triumphal parade, not an act of war or invasion. Except... it's an act of war or invasion. Lewis defangs and cozies it up by having the invaded populous want to be invaded, and for no reason than "kings are cool, dude!" No. Just, no.

The doorkeeper -- who is not given a name here and which I will refer to as "Ernie" because he reminds me of the cart-driver in Terry Pratchett's The Hogfather -- appears to me to be an older man, no longer really fit for the duties of a guard, but given the relatively easy post of doorkeeper as a sort of sinecure to take care of him in his old age.

That's interesting, because I always saw him as a younger guy, very small and skinny, sort of slovenly and unkempt, possibly with nicotine-yellowed fingernails because he smokes cigarettes whenever he's on break (and keeps the dog-ends either in the corner of his mouth of behind his ear). He couldn't care less about honor, glory or all those things Narnians live and breathe, he just wanted a job that wasn't too hard for him to do -- and he pretty much landed this job because he didn't really have the physique or stamina for active military duty, and even less for work at one of the farms, but could be trusted to keep the governor's appointments in order.

I agree that it's really low of the so-called heroes to give him this treatment, though. Okay, so his diction isn't perfect, but he's not being rude or anything; he's just informing the strangers that they need an appointment to see the governor. He certainly didn't ask for some jerk to come and hit him with a metal gauntlet and call him "dog" just because he was doing his appointed duty.

The doorkeeper -- who is not given a name here and which I will refer to as "Ernie" because he reminds me of the cart-driver in Terry Pratchett's The Hogfather -- appears to me to be an older man, no longer really fit for the duties of a guard, but given the relatively easy post of doorkeeper as a sort of sinecure to take care of him in his old age.

That's interesting, because I always saw him as a younger guy, very small and skinny, sort of slovenly and unkempt, possibly with nicotine-yellowed fingernails because he smokes cigarettes whenever he's on break (and keeps the dog-ends either in the corner of his mouth of behind his ear). He couldn't care less about honor, glory or all those things Narnians live and breathe, he just wanted a job that wasn't too hard for him to do -- and he pretty much landed this job because he didn't really have the physique or stamina for active military duty, and even less for work at one of the farms, but could be trusted to keep the governor's appointments in order.

I agree that it's really low of the so-called heroes to give him this treatment, though. Okay, so his diction isn't perfect, but he's not being rude or anything; he's just informing the strangers that they need an appointment to see the governor. He certainly didn't ask for some jerk to come and hit him with a metal gauntlet and call him "dog" just because he was doing his appointed duty.

Tangential, perhaps, but we notice again that for supposedly being a king, both of Narnia and of the Lone Islands, Caspian does very little actual ruling. The entire setup for Voyage is Caspian nipping of to the end of the world and leaving Trumpkin in charge, and here, after deposing a government that he believes is incompetent, Caspian will leave the reconstruction and administration of that government to someone else almost immediately. If I were a king who had just reconsidered territory I hadn't seen in centuries, I think I'd take a little time to make sure the government was running under someone actually trustworthy with power. Furthermore, this island would make a decent base of operations to ferret out where my friends were and go rescue them...or wreak havoc on those who enslaved them. I'm beginning to think Caspian either didn't get instruction in the kingly arts or is the dangerous king who doesn't pay attention and doesn't much care, either, which makes him very likely to do something kingdom-crushingly stupid. (In addition to insulting someone's daughter in the earshot of anyone else.)

Being back to the peasantry apparently distracted by the shiny and willing to follow the glittery king, historically, the presence of men in armor is a Bad Thing. It generally results in things that require content notes, especially to women. Once the swords came out, there should not have been anyone on the streets that wasn't there to fight or surrender to them. Perhaps Lewis is deliberately sanitizing the horror and screaming of people realizing they're about to get hurt and should run into "they came out to see him!" I'm guessing that's how Caspian would see it.

Regarding the grime, there's that one line from Monty Python: "Must be a king or something.""How do you know?""He hasn't got s(bleep) all over 'im."

Tangential, perhaps, but we notice again that for supposedly being a king, both of Narnia and of the Lone Islands, Caspian does very little actual ruling. The entire setup for Voyage is Caspian nipping of to the end of the world and leaving Trumpkin in charge, and here, after deposing a government that he believes is incompetent, Caspian will leave the reconstruction and administration of that government to someone else almost immediately. If I were a king who had just reconsidered territory I hadn't seen in centuries, I think I'd take a little time to make sure the government was running under someone actually trustworthy with power. Furthermore, this island would make a decent base of operations to ferret out where my friends were and go rescue them...or wreak havoc on those who enslaved them. I'm beginning to think Caspian either didn't get instruction in the kingly arts or is the dangerous king who doesn't pay attention and doesn't much care, either, which makes him very likely to do something kingdom-crushingly stupid. (In addition to insulting someone's daughter in the earshot of anyone else.)

Being back to the peasantry apparently distracted by the shiny and willing to follow the glittery king, historically, the presence of men in armor is a Bad Thing. It generally results in things that require content notes, especially to women. Once the swords came out, there should not have been anyone on the streets that wasn't there to fight or surrender to them. Perhaps Lewis is deliberately sanitizing the horror and screaming of people realizing they're about to get hurt and should run into "they came out to see him!" I'm guessing that's how Caspian would see it.

Regarding the grime, there's that one line from Monty Python: "Must be a king or something.""How do you know?""He hasn't got s(bleep) all over 'im."

"and where Gumpas sat in the castle, muddling and messing about with accounts and forms and rules and regulations, he heard the noise."Six months later, when there's no money left and Horses are being ground up and sold as prime beef, Lord Bern briefly regrets not paying more attention to the paperwork.

So the governor is doing ruling Wrong not because of the slave trade but because he takes a personal interest in the administration and the boring but necessary details of running a country, rather than dashing about in shiny armour.

The rust and the dirt and the overall unkemptedness seems, to my eyes, to be less an unacceptable degradation of the glory of governance and more a factor of fiscal prudenceRusty weapons that would break if you actually used them, wielded by half-asleep guards, is only fiscal prudence if you are extremely sure that no-one is going to invade. So either the island's government is in such financial trouble that they literally can't afford to replace the weapons and hire more guards (which is why Gumpas is spending so much time going over the accounts and trying to see if there are any loopholes in the various contracts) - but if so, I'd expect the guards to be terrified of invasions, not to fail to recognise one when it walks down the street ... or they've some other form of protection going on so that no-one tries anything. Maybe some carefully managed trade relationships with Calormen and Archenland so that if one of them did invade the other one would feel obliged to rescue then (and again, paperwork).

"No, we don't need to include Narnia in this. It's enough of a headache playing those two off against each other. Yes, I know they have that territorial claim. They haven't tried to enforce it in centuries and the last thing I want to do is send an emissary over there to remind them of it. It's not as if they have any ships."

"and where Gumpas sat in the castle, muddling and messing about with accounts and forms and rules and regulations, he heard the noise."Six months later, when there's no money left and Horses are being ground up and sold as prime beef, Lord Bern briefly regrets not paying more attention to the paperwork.

So the governor is doing ruling Wrong not because of the slave trade but because he takes a personal interest in the administration and the boring but necessary details of running a country, rather than dashing about in shiny armour.

The rust and the dirt and the overall unkemptedness seems, to my eyes, to be less an unacceptable degradation of the glory of governance and more a factor of fiscal prudenceRusty weapons that would break if you actually used them, wielded by half-asleep guards, is only fiscal prudence if you are extremely sure that no-one is going to invade. So either the island's government is in such financial trouble that they literally can't afford to replace the weapons and hire more guards (which is why Gumpas is spending so much time going over the accounts and trying to see if there are any loopholes in the various contracts) - but if so, I'd expect the guards to be terrified of invasions, not to fail to recognise one when it walks down the street ... or they've some other form of protection going on so that no-one tries anything. Maybe some carefully managed trade relationships with Calormen and Archenland so that if one of them did invade the other one would feel obliged to rescue then (and again, paperwork).

"No, we don't need to include Narnia in this. It's enough of a headache playing those two off against each other. Yes, I know they have that territorial claim. They haven't tried to enforce it in centuries and the last thing I want to do is send an emissary over there to remind them of it. It's not as if they have any ships."

It wouldn't surprise me if Lewis was commenting on the at-the-time ruckus over decolonization and the end of the monarchy. This isn't really my specialty, so take everything that follows with the appropriate grain of salt. Ireland declares itself a republic in 1949 and removes the Crown as head of state (Ireland had previously gotten independence in 1922, but the Crown was still head of state). India, having gotten independence in 1947, becomes a republic in 1950 and similarly severs ties with the crown. Pakistan, Burma and Sri Lanka follow similar routes. So, Lewis was writing this at a time when the English monarchy was being booted from a number of countries.

On top of that, there was a political argument going in in Britain between pro and anti-decolonization parties. The Labour Party comes to power in 1945, and proceeds to grant independence to India/Pakistan, Sri Lanka and Burma and withdraw from Palestine. Then in 1951, the Conservative Party comes back to power, and the Conservative Party at the time thought it was completely necessary to keep the empire going. It really wasn't until the Suez crisis in 1956, that the Conservatives pretty much began to recognize that the glory days of Empire were quickly coming to an end. And I have to say, that the Conservative's arguments at the time in defense of empire strike me very much along the lines of "we need an empire, just because that's the way it's always been," which is about Caspian's justification for Narnia's claim to the Lone Islands.

I'm really not familiar with the history of Lewis's political views, but I always assumed that a lot of what goes on in VotD was a defense of Empire and the Crown and was a direct reference to the events which were happening as he was writing.

On a side note, although the British abolished slavery in the empire, they didn't abolish tenant farming. After India got its independence, it began a land reform with the goal of ending tenant farming, and most of the large estates would eventually be broken up. Most of the British landlords had left by this point, but a few probably lost their holdings in the land reform. I don't really know, but it seems plausible to me that this would have made some waves among the British upper class. Perhaps I am reading too much into it, but I've always read Lord Bern as Lewis's defense of the practice of tenant farming.

It wouldn't surprise me if Lewis was commenting on the at-the-time ruckus over decolonization and the end of the monarchy. This isn't really my specialty, so take everything that follows with the appropriate grain of salt. Ireland declares itself a republic in 1949 and removes the Crown as head of state (Ireland had previously gotten independence in 1922, but the Crown was still head of state). India, having gotten independence in 1947, becomes a republic in 1950 and similarly severs ties with the crown. Pakistan, Burma and Sri Lanka follow similar routes. So, Lewis was writing this at a time when the English monarchy was being booted from a number of countries.

On top of that, there was a political argument going in in Britain between pro and anti-decolonization parties. The Labour Party comes to power in 1945, and proceeds to grant independence to India/Pakistan, Sri Lanka and Burma and withdraw from Palestine. Then in 1951, the Conservative Party comes back to power, and the Conservative Party at the time thought it was completely necessary to keep the empire going. It really wasn't until the Suez crisis in 1956, that the Conservatives pretty much began to recognize that the glory days of Empire were quickly coming to an end. And I have to say, that the Conservative's arguments at the time in defense of empire strike me very much along the lines of "we need an empire, just because that's the way it's always been," which is about Caspian's justification for Narnia's claim to the Lone Islands.

I'm really not familiar with the history of Lewis's political views, but I always assumed that a lot of what goes on in VotD was a defense of Empire and the Crown and was a direct reference to the events which were happening as he was writing.

On a side note, although the British abolished slavery in the empire, they didn't abolish tenant farming. After India got its independence, it began a land reform with the goal of ending tenant farming, and most of the large estates would eventually be broken up. Most of the British landlords had left by this point, but a few probably lost their holdings in the land reform. I don't really know, but it seems plausible to me that this would have made some waves among the British upper class. Perhaps I am reading too much into it, but I've always read Lord Bern as Lewis's defense of the practice of tenant farming.

I'm not sure you can cozify without privilege, at least some types of privilege.

I think this is very profound. Something to really think about, for me.

I think, to riff off your princess example depizan, that perhaps you can cozify if you spell out that This Isn't That Kind Of World. But that isn't going to work with all things. We can postulate a country where the ruler's daughter is allowed to choose her own husband, but we can't really postulate a world where people don't react with concern to armed invaders in their streets, I don't think. The former merely requires a different society; the latter seems to require differences in humanity.

I also think what the author's trying to sell with their cozifying matters. As does how much it does (or doesn't) apply to reality. The princess getting to choose her own husband is most likely to say that people should get to choose their own spouse. Any real life impact there seems positive, at least for the pro-choosing-your-own-spouse crowd. (Which isn't to say that can't be done badly or problematiclly or Unfortunate Implicationsy. I'm just not seeing an inherent bad.)

People cheer armed invaders, however, like torture always works, seems to have a big potential to sell bad things to people in reality. Because no. Also HELL NO. (Perhaps not coincidentally both require massive modifications of how people work and/or what people can know.)

I also think what the author's trying to sell with their cozifying matters. As does how much it does (or doesn't) apply to reality. The princess getting to choose her own husband is most likely to say that people should get to choose their own spouse. Any real life impact there seems positive, at least for the pro-choosing-your-own-spouse crowd. (Which isn't to say that can't be done badly or problematiclly or Unfortunate Implicationsy. I'm just not seeing an inherent bad.)

People cheer armed invaders, however, like torture always works, seems to have a big potential to sell bad things to people in reality. Because no. Also HELL NO. (Perhaps not coincidentally both require massive modifications of how people work and/or what people can know.)

Man, Lewis can't even cozify right! But... is cozifying really that easy? We've been seeing the deconstructions of two authors that cozify everything here, and both require very large blinders on the reader's part to work. Most of the well-worn cozifying tropes (Princesses, for example) are completely divorced from their real-life origins and still become really dubious at more than a casual glance. Without heaping helpings of priviledge and selfishness, how do you cozify?

Man, Lewis can't even cozify right! But... is cozifying really that easy? We've been seeing the deconstructions of two authors that cozify everything here, and both require very large blinders on the reader's part to work. Most of the well-worn cozifying tropes (Princesses, for example) are completely divorced from their real-life origins and still become really dubious at more than a casual glance. Without heaping helpings of priviledge and selfishness, how do you cozify?

I can see where the interpretation is there, but "law" is kind of broad like that.

There's a whole host of, for example, Tudor historians which will explain helpfully that Henry VIII put Anne Boleyn to death legally / under-the-law because even if* the evidence was false and the jury was privately told what conclusion to come to, it was still within the legal process. Which doesn't make it right or moral or even following the spirit of the law necessarily, just done within the process as proscribed on paper.

So, yeah. I'm not willing to give Lewis credit for a full constitutional checks'n'balance system based on a single throw-away line that doesn't even apply to Narnian government since Lune is king of Archenland.

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* Not saying all this actually happened, just saying that this is how I've seen the argument parse out. No Tudor derails, please! :)

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ETA: And, really, considering that he can conquer another territory (the Lone Islands), risk war with another country (Calormen), appoint the new ruler of the territory (Bern), sail off to the end of the world with no intention of returning, and bring back whoever he wants as a bride ... none of that really says "limited power" to me. But that's just me, lol. Also worth noting: Lune says that about a thousand years before Caspian is born; we have no reason to assume that Archenland traditions of Ye Golden Times are the same as the Narnian-Telmarine blended traditions of Caspian's reign.

I can't believe how many times I had to read that passage before I actually saw the words. The utter lack of fear on the part of the townspeople kept my mind from acknowledging that the army had drawn weapons and were marching so hard "that the street shook."

I can't believe how many times I had to read that passage before I actually saw the words. The utter lack of fear on the part of the townspeople kept my mind from acknowledging that the army had drawn weapons and were marching so hard "that the street shook."

This is an interesting point, given that it has been speculated in the comments (by depizan and others, iirc) that the Calormen slave trade is less a function of profit and more a function of protection, especially in light of the Pevensies up and disappearing and the Lone Islands being left high-and-dry in terms of protection from invaders and/or pirates.

Six months later, when there's no money left and Horses are being ground up and sold as prime beef, Lord Bern briefly regrets not paying more attention to the paperwork.

Heads up - Loquat (and everyone else), until the commenting wrinkles get ironed out, please don't use the Reply function :) Yes, it's a huge pain, but if we all keep from using it, at least the comments will be arranged in a readable fashion, and yours won't get buried somewhere in the middle of the discussion!

In a more thought-out fantasy world, the Lone Islands after Jadis's conquest (or, for that matter, the Telmarine invasion) might be something like Taiwan after China's Communist revolution - the place the remnants of the old regime flee to, and set up a government-in-exile on, after it becomes clear they've lost the mainland.

And wouldn't it be much more interesting if Caspian showed up only to encounter a local government that claimed to be the last true heirs of Narnia's original humans, and that demanded he recognize their claim to rule the whole country?

I'm reminded of accounts of Frederick William I, father of the much lauded Frederick the Great, who was known not only for dilligently adhering to his own tax codes and ensuring that the nobility did as well, but also practiced extreme frugality in the course of government business so that not a single penny was wasted, up to the point of making sure that candles were not left to burn past the hours they were needed. The guy also reinvested that money in grain surpluses, land reclamation, and mandatory public education for a large sector of the populace.

Trigger Warning: Child abuse, ExecutionOn the other hand, he was also a guy who accepted as a compromise for not being permitted to execute his son for running away from his authoritarian parenting style to instead have Frederick's best friend who had abetted in his escape executed while he was forced to watch, so... I don't know what to take from it. ;)

Just the other day, Fred posted a Left Behind deconstruction about the dangerous tendency to see any real government as 'worldly' and therefore evil. Weirdly, according to MaryKaye in comments, CS Lewis distinguished between two senses of 'being worldly' and noted the potential goodness of one of them. (The other concerns reputation and wealth.) If he knew that then he must have forgotten it here, because he effectively wants us to dislike Gumpas for not caring what people think of him and not making a show of wealth.

(On close inspection, Lewis must want us to think that Gumpas cares only about having money ala Ebenezer Scrooge and not using it. But none of that shows until later. And, um, the manner of its appearance does not make sense to me. Maybe he expects Calormen to save him from an invasion, but not a demand for tribute? But that fails in at least two ways.)

Narnia seems much better written than LB, for the most part. Only in PC, when our heroes bravely wait outside the door, does Lewis' work sink that far. (Heck, even that scene looks like a failure of storytelling and symbolism instead of their complete absence.) But it still has some of the same flaws. Both series show a religious kind of hostility towards reality.

No, wait, it only fails in one obvious way. The governor may believe Calormen will send soldiers to prevent an invasion or unseat a conqueror - therefore Caspian has no motive to kill him and take power - but they won't or can't do anything if Caspian steals a bunch of money and sails away.

[Except] slaves need to be fed and housed, and that costs money too. Also, given that slaves are going to be notably lacking in motivation to do a good job, they're going to need constant supervision and supervisors need to be paid. All of which might explain the condition of the castle if the governor is using slaves.

Which doesn't make it right or moral or even following the spirit of the law necessarily, just done within the process as proscribed on paper.

Okay, no Tudor derail, but I'm going to indulge in a language derail. The use of "proscribe" where the intended meaning is "prescribe" drives me buggy. Basically, by changing one letter in one word, you invert the meaning of the sentence, and I see this mistake a lot. I think I've seen the reverse error exactly once.

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